


I'm not ready

by bitsandbobsandstuff



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, sad bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 21:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11975334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitsandbobsandstuff/pseuds/bitsandbobsandstuff
Summary: When the time comes, he is never ready.





	I'm not ready

**Author's Note:**

> This was something short I posted on Tumblr awhile back. Made me sad to write it.

_I’m not ready_  to fall asleep alone, arms aching and empty, trying to remember a soft body curled into my chest, furtively trying to steal the heat from my body. I know I’d let go of everything I have in a heartbeat, at the quietest whisper from her.

_I’m not ready_  to wake up to cold stiff sheets, still tucked perfectly into the edge of a bed, fully intact because I lay awake all night, tense and rigid and unmoving. She sleeps with the comforting force of a hurricane, twisting and tangling and flailing and it makes me feel so incredibly alive.

_I’m not ready_  to reach across the hard mattress each daybreak and find nothing, no heart shaped dip in the bed, no beautifully unique imprint of her body carved into the fabric, proving she’s more,  _so much more_ , than just a dream.

_I’m not ready_  to face my nightmares alone. Oh my God  _please don’t make me._ I don’t want to hear the black screams, to relive the white hot torture, when everything is so fucking real, coated in a sick wash of red, so real, it’s  _so real_ , it’s so  _god damn terrifyingly real_.

_I’m not ready_  to lose Saturday morning pancakes, crisp and dark, burnt along the edges, that simple dose of normalcy she found for me. The thought that this life might actually be worth living creeping slowly into my brain, something so desperately absent for seven long decades, I forgot to remember I should want it.

_I’m not ready_  to see the wet tracks of mascara streaking down her face the next time she sees me, to watch the dripping black paint pooling in the corners of her mouth, falling to soak and stain the ragged collar of my old blue t-shirt, the one she always insists on wearing to sleep. I can’t let her see me like this. I’m already broken, I can’t take her down with me.

_I’m not ready_  to even consider someone else’s hands touching her skin, now or in the future, leaving their invisible fingerprints, licking away her salty drops of sweat, marking her in every intimate way. Feeling the way her skin flushes and prickles, the way she pants with quiet little whimpers when she’s turned on.

_I’m not ready_  for the thought of her digging her nails into someone else’s shoulders, scratching red lines down someone else’s back when she falls over the edge, knowing someone else has felt every intimate detail of her body.

_I’m not ready_  to believe she could ever be anything other than  _mine. Always mine._ Even though she knows I’m shockingly rough and possessive, a broken mess of a man scrubbed raw with heartbreak, still trying to figure out how to love. She knew, she knows, she took me anyway.

_I’m not ready for this._

Please don’t let this happen again, don’t let it be real, it can’t be real, it’s not real. Open your eyes Bucky.

_I’m not ready._

Jesus Christ, I’m begging, I’m fucking begging, don’t let this be real. Wake up Bucky, god dammit, wake up!

_I’m not fucking ready._

No, no, no, I can hear them, the words draining every ounce of energy, every drop of self-control, cracking my skull open, setting my skin on fire. I’m never ready and it never matters.

_Please._

_I’m not ready._

_I’m not ready._

_I’m not -_

_**Ready to comply.** _


End file.
